


It isn't some kind of magic

by Laramie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Horses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas is a riding instructor giving a birthday party to Millie Kent, and her uncle Jimmy wants a go...</p>
            </blockquote>





	It isn't some kind of magic

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a song by Mary-Ann Kennedy because I couldn't think of anything better.
> 
> Many of the horses are named after horses I have known.

The kids were more unruly than usual for that session; they always were at birthday parties, because they already knew each other and were high on the novelty of seeing ponies. From what Thomas remembered, all of them except Millie - whose birthday it was - were beginners. Millie had been coming for a year or so; she usually rode a dependable Exmoor called Anchor, but was itching to move up to the intermediate group on Saturday afternoons so that she could ride Folly.

When Thomas went to fetch Sparkle's saddle from the office (Daisy was supposed to have tacked her up, but she was nowhere to be found), Tom said: "The birthday party now - Millie's mum couldn't make it so her uncle Jimmy's brought her and he wants a go. Have we got anyone he could ride?"

"How tall?"

"He says six foot but he looks more like 5'10" to me. Wouldn't let me measure him. Complete beginner."

Thomas sorted through the equines in his head. "Tilly might have worked but she's been on all day - she could do with a break. Samson might do him; he's been on all morning as well but I don't think he's being used at all this afternoon. All right, give me five minutes and I'll get them sorted. Send 'em over for hats in a bit."

"All right, thanks," Tom acknowledged. "Oh hey, you couldn't do the intermediates lesson after, could you? Mary's gonna be late."

"No way, it's schooling day. I want chance to ride me own bloody horse, instead of teaching everyone else how to ride."

Tom huffed. "Fine. They'll just have to hang on for a few minutes."

Thomas gave a mock-salute with his left wrist, hefted Samson's saddle onto his free arm and hurried away to shove each saddle on the appropriate horse's back. As he rounded the corner, Daisy called out from behind him: "Thomas, have you seen Sparkle's saddle?"

"Yes, I got it, because _you_ were nowhere to be found," Thomas told her, offloading Sparkle's saddle and continuing on to Samson's stable. The old gelding did not look impressed to see his tack returning.

"Sorry, mate, you've got one more," Thomas told him cheerfully. He gave Samson's barrel back a cursory brush before putting the saddle on his withers and sliding it back into place to keep all his hair lying in the right direction. Samson blew his stomach out when Thomas went to fasten the girth, so Thomas left it loose for the moment and concentrated on putting the bridle on over the headcollar instead. He had the action down to a T by now, despite having only one hand; with his right hand, he held the bridle over the horse's forehead, using his left wrist to persuade Samson to take the bit.

Thomas buckled the bridle rapidly and returned to the girth. "Breathe out, ya git," he muttered as Samson puffed up again. He poked Samson in the ribs and at last he relaxed enough for Thomas to tighten the girth. "Gotcha."

He looped the reins safely around themselves and clipped the lead rope that was tied to the ring in the wall to Samson's headcollar, to keep him out of trouble. Then he headed for the unoccupied loosebox on the end where the riding hats were kept, and around which the kids had congregated. Most of the parents had already gone to wait by the fence, but an anxious-looking woman was hovering along with the kids too.

"All right, one at a time!" Thomas called, wading through them. "Come and present me with your heads and I'll decide whether to chop 'em off or give you a hat…"

Half-a-dozen eight- and nine-year-olds giggled. A blonde girl marched into the box and Thomas settled down to finding the right-sized riding hat for each child. He got so caught-up that when the man who must be Millie's uncle Jimmy walked in, Thomas was already assessing the size of his head before he even registered that the man was _very_ attractive; blonde and muscled in an I-go-to-the-gym sort of way.

Thomas kept his cool and offered him a hat, spotting the way Jimmy's eyes caught on his missing left hand. Thomas was suddenly very aware of the grubbiness of his jodhpurs and polo shirt and the hay in his hair. But then, he had always thought people who bothered to wear clean clothes for riding were pretty silly, and that included Jimmy.

"Nod your head," Thomas instructed.

Jimmy did so, rattling his head around just as the kids had. The hat shifted down over his eyes so Thomas gestured for him to take it off and gave him the next size down. Jimmy repeated the process and the hat stayed put.

"Right, that one's fine," Thomas said. "If you want to go and find your horse now - you're riding Samson. His name's sewn on his noseband."

"Thanks," Jimmy said with a grin that made Thomas's insides quiver, and wandered off.

Thomas took a moment to gather himself before leaving the box and heading down the aisle between the rows of stables. "Everyone got your horses? Come on then, you can untie them and lead them out to the arena!" Daisy and Gwen were around to help the kids out if necessary, but Thomas still had to pause to help a boy who started crying because he managed to turn the quick-release knot into a mangled mess. Thomas untangled the rope for him. "Next time, just pull on the loose end and the knot will undo itself," he advised. "Out you go, then."

Thomas followed the straggler's clattering hooves out of the building. Everyone queued up to use the mounting block in the arena, helpers appearing out of the woodwork to take hold of the ponies' leadropes. Thomas was careful not to look at Jimmy any more than the rest of the riders, but he did notice that Jimmy held the leadrope with the typical stiff-armed posture of someone who had no idea what he was doing.

"Right!" Thomas called, when all six kids and one grown-up were mounted. "Is everyone ready?"

"Wait a minute!" Jimmy shouted back. "I'm not getting stuck with all the kids, am I?"

"All the party's riding together," Thomas said. "What did you think was going to happen?"

"But they're eight!"

This earned him a few scowls and words of reproach from said kids, especially the ones who were now nine.

Thomas stifled a smile. "We usually group by ability, not age. Don't spoil Millie's party, now; she's been looking forward to this."

Jimmy subsided, muttering to himself, so Thomas took one last moment to scrutinise the line-up - "You on Piglet, bring her up behind Orange Peel or she'll fidget" - before leading them all across the yard and down the track which led to the woods. Since Millie, on Anchor, was at the front and reasonably experienced, Thomas let her lead the ride alone and led the horse behind her, because they were a person short.

Once they had all passed through the gate onto the woodland track, the ride took its usual pause to adjust stirrups and tighten girths. Most of the kids seemed to be holding up pretty well, though Thomas had a strong urge to punch the one who kept jiggling about and jabbing Sparkle in the mouth. Lily was in the process of lengthening the girl's reins to limit the irritation she could cause. Jimmy, fourth in the line, had lost any sense of bravado; he was a bit pale, and clutching the pommel. Sybil seemed to be trying to calm him down.

They went on through the woods. Some of the kids chatted to each other or to the person leading them. Seven hoof quartets clopped dully on the dirt track. The weather stayed fine, which was a relief to Thomas, as it was a drag to trudge along in the rain holding some kid's pony.

After a while, they came to the stretch of the track that was good for trotting; the ground was even and there was a little more space for the leaders to jog alongside. "If anyone wants to have a trot, stay back here; if you don't want to trot, that's fine, go on ahead and wait by that big tree."

"What's trotting?" asked the girl on Orange Peel.

"It's where your horse goes faster and bounces you up and down," Thomas replied. After a moment of discussion, two of the kids went on ahead, leaving Millie, three of her friends and her uncle Jimmy to wait behind. Thomas did not know why Jimmy was going through with it, because he looked terrified. He probably did not want to be outperformed by three kids and his nine-year-old niece; his face was rather red.

"When we get going, everyone remember to sit up nice and tall, and hold on to the front of your saddle to keep yourself steady."

"Thomas, shall I go now?" Millie asked eagerly as the walkers reached the designated tree.

"Yep, off you go."

Millie kicked Anchor on and she rushed forward to rejoin those ahead with Piglet's nose in her tail. Directly behind him, Thomas heard Sybil laughing: "Just sit up straight, Jimmy, and hold on to the front of the saddle!"

The rest of the ride went smoothly, and when they all clattered through the yard back to the arena, the kids were cheerful and chatty. Thomas helped the rider he had been leading dismount and surreptitiously watched Jimmy, on the pretence of keeping an eye on everyone. Jimmy was unsteady when he clambered off, wincing slighting.

 _Shouldn't have done that trotting, should ya?_ Thomas thought, amused. He tore himself away and dropped Ned off in a box, leaving the girls to untack, brush and put out those horses who had finished for the day and to ready those who were needed in the next lesson. He was not sorry to leave the squealing of the birthday party kids behind, as he passed through into the livery stable block, but he was maybe a little sorry that he would likely never see Jimmy again.

Asia, Thomas's grey Arab cross, greeted him by pushing her head forward for strokes. She had a pretty face, narrow and delicate, with big dark eyes. Thomas fussed her for a few minutes before tacking her up, fixing on his riding hat and leading her out into the arena. Millie and Jimmy had gone by then, but by the time he had mounted and begun the process of warming Asia up, he hardly cared, sinking easily into the relaxed state he always found when working with Asia.

* * *

Jimmy was a bit stiff when he jumped off his horse at the end of the ride. He suspected he was going to be sore in the morning. He went over to join Millie and asked whether she had enjoyed herself.

"It was great! Let me show you around, uncle Jimmy, there's loads of horses you haven't seen yet!" She pulled her hat off, ignoring Jimmy when he told her not to forget it, and dragged him round on a tour of the stables before she would consent to going back to Jimmy's, still babbling about her favourite horses and how cool she thought it was that Jimmy had joined in (though she did tell him off for his apparently terrible posture).

Jimmy had almost tuned her out when, five minutes after leaving, she suddenly said: "Oh! I don't have my hat!"

Jimmy groaned. "I told you to remember it!"

"Mum will be cross if I lose it," Millie said, looking at Jimmy anxiously from the passenger seat. "It was expensive."

"Oh, for God's sake. Fine, I'm turning round," Jimmy said, not keen to face his sister-in-law's wrath. He wrenched the car round irritably in a side road and reversed their journey, suppressing the urge to mutter under his breath. This was an excellent example of why he did not want kids: he didn't have the patience for them. His mind wandered to the hot riding instructor; now _he_ seemed to have a lot of patience with the riders. If Jimmy had not ended the session sweaty, grimy and having made a fool of himself, he might have tried asking for Thomas's number. He told himself that Thomas probably wasn't gay, anyway. Or bi, or whatever.

They parked up at the stables again; Millie jumped out and Jimmy followed, just for something to do. They walked back into the building and Millie quickly found her hat resting outside one of the stables, where she must have put it down to stroke one of the horses and forgotten to pick it up again.

Jimmy was just turning to go back to the car (for the second time) when Millie grabbed his hand and tugged him back. "Uncle Jimmy, Thomas is riding Asia - can we watch for a minute - please, please?"

Jimmy told himself that it was not for entirely selfish reasons that he agreed, and followed her out to the arena. Sybil and one of the other girls were leaning on the fence already watching, so Millie joined the older girls with a shy: "Hi Sybil, hi Daisy."

"Hello, darling," Sybil replied.

Jimmy watched Thomas as Millie explained that she had forgotten her hat. Thomas was riding differently to how the others had, with the two reins held in his right hand. His grey horse, presumably Asia, was carrying her head lower than Jimmy remembered Samson doing. Asia trotted across the centre of the arena, turning her front end towards their side while her body remained straight. After repeating this on the other side, Asia started doing some faster pace, and they seemed to fly over a jump that was set up along the edge of the arena. All the time, Thomas's left wrist rested on his thigh, as though his left arm was superfluous to what he was doing. His face was relaxed and content.

Jimmy had never really _got_ riding before; his whole experience of it was of a younger Millie bouncing around on some pony's back and Olympic sports he had never bothered to watch for more than a couple of minutes. With Thomas, though, he thought he understood the beauty of it. The two of them, Thomas and Asia, were moulded together, seeming to act as one being. In contrast to the flapping, kicking mess of the kids he had just ridden with, Jimmy could barely detect the signals passing between them.

As Thomas brought Asia to a stop and began to pivot her around her own back legs, Daisy sighed: "Why are all the good ones gay?"

Jimmy's heart picked up speed as a single word flashed into his mind: _MAYBE_.

 


End file.
